Dissonance
by Anna Yukihira
Summary: Silver reflects on his life so far and what that's done to his messed-up self.


Lyrics? Mine. Story? Mine. Characters? Someone else's.

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Silver sits down in the white, white room, wondering who was insane enough to paint the walls that awful color, which blinds him with its brilliance. It's even worse than the sunshiny yellow that Gold's mother decided would be absolutely perfect for their house. He hates it, despises it, more than anything else he can think of at the current moment, more than the Mask of Ice. And he can't help but to question himself on that, because for the love of God, it's just a color.

Maybe it's because white is the color of snow, of innocence, of purity and unfettered joy. Maybe it's because white represents what is untarnished, and he's too stained, too dark, too damaged for white to suit him. Maybe it's because it reminds him of all that he's lost.

There are no chairs, so his seat is the ugly concrete floor. It's hard, cold, uncomfortable, but it's nothing more than a criminal like him deserves. After all, it's grey, the color you get when black is mixed with white. And if black is evil and white is innocence, then grey is what you get when you let the evil trickle into a formerly innocent heart.

It's hard for him to remember that he was once even innocent, once a normal kid, with a family that loved him and maybe some friends. It's all a foggy, hazy blur in his mind, which isn't all that surprising, since he was two.

But then the Mask of Ice took him away and changed him into what he is right now. He's alone, bitter, angry at the world, and all he has left is a handful of fragmented dreams.

He shoves his hands into his pockets and feels something cool and hard in one of them. It's the MP3 player Blue gave him before leaving to search for her parents. The smile that spreads on his face is a twisted, distorted form of a grimace, and he wonders how the hell he came to be so messed up that he can't even _smile_ like a normal person anymore.

The small device is probably the only thing she's ever given him that wasn't illegally obtained in some way. It's also probably the last thing she'll ever give him, now that she's found her real family. He got the news this morning.

He's happy for her, yes, but there's also a bitter feeling welling up inside his chest, one that's hateful and spiteful and so disgusting that he's angry at himself for feeling it. He wants it to stop, he wants to be selfless and only hold good wishes for his sister in his heart, but the years under the Mask of Ice have warped him into someone who can't be that good and that kind.

And really, he doesn't want to be like that anyways, because if there's anything that he's learned, it's that the world hates him and will never leave him in peace, and no matter what he does, there's always more coming. A nice person won't make it. Can't make it. Either they die or the person they once were has to. One way or another, something is destroyed, and in his case, it's whatever trace of softness he used to carry in his bitter, bitter heart.

He doesn't regret killing off his nicer side. He doesn't.

He wants to throw Blue's present against the cold, cold floor and stomp on it until it's broken beyond repair. He doesn't want her stupid consolation prizes and he doesn't want her pity. He's made his choice and he won't waste his time searching for his family. Family is nothing but a weakness, something that can be used against you to control you like a puppet. He learned that when the Mask of Ice started threatening Blue to keep him in line.

He won't make the same mistake twice.

Still, the first mistake has already been made and it can't be undone. Blue means too much to him to throw away this final gift. He hates himself for this sign of sentimentality, this stupid emotion that makes him hurt inside, and he wants, no, he needs, to dispose of it. If he's too broken already to be a good person, then he'll rid himself of all kindness inside. There's no halfway for him.

Those stupid idiots don't understand anything about him. They know about his past, yes, but they don't see what that's turned him into, or how that's screwed up the way he thinks. They don't know what an amazingly impressionable age two is, and how even five year olds are so much more aware, and that Blue was less affected by the regime as a whole. They don't realize that it's not that freaking easy to reform and you can't just do it at the snap of a finger. They can't comprehend how he's been indoctrinated into the Mask of Ice's beliefs, how demented his moral system is, because he was raised to believe that it was fine to steal and fine to hurt other people. They don't recognize how hard it is to ignore the little voice whispering in the back of his mind, telling him that it's still okay. No, they just go on squealing about how friendship will heal him and preaching their shiny, shiny ideals, expecting that, since Blue ended up more or less fine, he did too.

Screw them all. He doesn't need them.

Especially not his self-proclaimed best friend, that fool Gold, with his happy house full of Pokemon and ridiculously cheerful personality.

Silver's lips curled into a sneer. Blue had stolen a gold bracelet before and, although she originally intended to keep it for herself, she sold it soon afterwards, because while it was pretty, it was also too malleable. His namesake suits that idiot perfectly. But he isn't Gold, he's Silver, and he'll be stronger than Gold. He doesn't have the luxury to be that soft, that gentle, because there's no one to cover him if he makes a mistake.

And Crystal? Crystal is nothing but fancified glass, something fragile that shatters if it falls. She is that stern, that rigid, and even that breakable, but he isn't. And if he ever was, the Mask of Ice had quickly destroyed that part of him.

But if they're such pathetic fools, then why the hell is he so freaking _raw_ around them? Blue ends up like that with Red, Green, and Yellow as well, but she is still her own master. She doesn't let them get the upper hand, whereas he can't control his temper and yells at his fellow Johto Dex Holders constantly. He's losing his touch the longer he's near them. What the hell is wrong with him?

On impulse, he puts in the ear buds and picks a random song, wanting it to drown out the longing and aching in his heart before he breaks down.

He hears someone pluck out a gentle tune on the strings of a guitar and to his shock, he recognizes it. It's an old, old song that he's heard Gold hum before. It's a nice song; it's a sweet song, full of promises of happiness. Not a song for someone as cruel, as twisted, as _tainted_ as him.

_You see the sun is setting_

_You feel the night is coming_

_And the dark makes you afraid_

_When others have left you alone on the road_

_I'll smile at you and stay_

Maybe why that's why he's so twisted, because no one has ever freaking stayed; not his mother, not his father, not Blue. No one else understands him like she does, because all of their childhoods were absolute bliss compared to his. She's the only one who went through it with him. She's the only one who can sympathize. And now she's gone.

He doesn't need family anymore. Even if by some odd chance he finds his, they won't want him when they learn he's a criminal, after they see how damaged he is. He's been ruined him beyond repair; the Mask of Ice has stolen both past and future from him.

_The shadows come_

_Your heart beats like a drum_

_I see you start to shake_

_So I'll hold you close_

_And keep away the ghosts_

_Then you'll know you're safe_

But if he doesn't need anything, if his heart is truly stone, then why does he feel like crying as the song plays on?

_I'm here and you've been found_

_Don't worry_

_Those dreams can't touch you now_

_The monsters in your mind won't come to life_

_We'll be alright_

_Alright . . ._

_Alright . . ._

_Alright . . ._

He leans back against the cold, cold wall and closes his eyes, letting the poisonous melody with all its words of hope seep into his veins and cloud his mind with doubts.


End file.
